


Routine

by Hyena_Poison



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:19:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyena_Poison/pseuds/Hyena_Poison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Todd and Jesse develop a routine over time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for a [Kinkmeme](http://brbakinkmeme.livejournal.com/521.html?thread=76809#t76809/) prompt.

The kid watches him, constantly. He calls him ‘kid’, though Jesse’s maybe only a few years older. But he feels old now, tired. Something worn and broken, like he can feel the cracks webbing through him. Always tired. They pull Jesse out of the hole, early in the morning. They cook; Todd watches. They dump him back in the hole; he sleeps. They drag him out again.

Time passes, Jesse knows, but it’s blurring and twisting away from him. Wake up, cook, sleep, wake up, cook, sleep, wakeupcooksleep—

“Jesse,” Todd says, almost quietly; Jesse’d been playing a statue again. Jesse meets his eyes, begins breaking up their product.

\----

The ladder is tricky with his feet and hands cuffed; an orange light buzzes nearby, drawing harsh shadows. Todd grips the back of his shirt, holding him steady, safe. Jesse shuffles to a pile of blankets—stained, dusty—and slides down the wall onto them. And Todd watches, stone-steady.

Jesse’s shoulders slump as Todd clanks up the ladder; he tries to breathe. The grate creaks shut, a lock clips, Jesse lets out a breath, scrubs his face with dirty palms.

Todd clanks down the ladder, and Jesse can’t breathe. Todd is watching again, hands in his pockets. Jesse tries not to shake, tries to understand, and fists the fabric of his shirt. Silence burns at them, and Jesse’s heart is slamming in his ears.

It’s only a step or two from the ladder to Jesse, and it doesn’t take Todd more than a second to cover it; Jesse flinches hard, craning to keep Todd in view. Todd touches his cheek, traces the healing map of cuts and bruises, and Jesse can’t stop a shudder.

“H-hey-“ Jesse starts, and Todd slips a thumb into his mouth. Jesse jerks away, trying to ignore the salt on his tongue. Jesse scrambles away, but Todd catches the chain around his waist, slides him back onto the blankets. Jesse squirms, pushing at his hand, whimpering, “What the fuck? What are you doing?” again and again.

“Shh, shhhh. Hey, it’s okay,” Todd straddles Jesse’s hips, pinning him. His hand runs over Jesse’s chest, rubbing, exploring. Fingers slip under his shirt, and Jesse thrashes, begging ‘no’ over and over until it devolves into a sob. Todd shushes him, brushing tears off his cheek, “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

Jesse keeps yelling, starts begging for someone, anyone to help, just help him, please; no one would come, he knows. He begs Todd, tells him between hitching breaths that he doesn’t have to do this, please he doesn’t have to do it. Todd’s hand slips to his throat, tightening; Jesse’s fingers clutch at Todd’s shirt, useless, cuffed and chained to his waist.

His free hand strokes Jesse’s face, brushing his forehead, lips, so softly, like Jesse would crumble apart between his fingers. “It’s alright, you’re okay. It’s fine, shh shhh.” Black cuts his vision, and Jesse can’t fight anymore, can’t breathe, can’t—

Todd lets up, gently flicking away tears as Jesse gulps down air. “It’s okay,” Todd says, tugging Jesse’s shirt up to his neck. “Relax,” he says, running fingers over bruised flesh and boney ribs. “I’ll keep you safe,” he says, lips following his fingers.

Jesse sobs, and Todd whispers again and again across his skin just how he’ll keep him safe.


	2. Chapter 2

Todd doesn’t just watch when they cook anymore: Todd runs his hand through Jesse’s short hair; he smiles like a school boy when Jesse looks at him; he pulls Jesse close, back to chest, and holds him until Jesse shakes. He tells him again and again, Jesse is safe, safe because he is Todd’s. Because Jesse belongs to him now. No one else would touch him.

Jesse asks about Mr. White, what will happen if he knows Jesse isn’t dead. Todd grabs the chain at Jesse’s stomach, pulls him close; Jesse avoids his eyes, but Todd kisses his cheek, hugs him. Todd promises nothing will happen, promises he is safe, that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. Jesse isn’t sure.

Jesse feels edgy and breathless—the cook is almost done, and he knows what happens after the cook. Back in the hole, with him. Todd, who holds him down, who ignores his begging, makes him do things. Todd, who is gentle, and promises to keep him safe, who tries to make him happy.

A hand slips down his back as Jesse is hangs up his hazmat suit; Jesse turns, backs away into the metal wall. Todd follows, cuffs his hands, rubbing his sides as he buries his face in Jesse’s neck. He holds Jesse’s face still, kissing trembling lips, his jaw, his ear. Jesse resists the urge to struggle, reminding himself of the consequences—the bruises left over from his last lesson. Todd does not enjoy doing it, punishing him, but says it’s for Jesse’s own good. Jesse has to behave, he has to be good.

A pressure on his shoulder, and Jesse is on his knees, wide eyes watching Todd undo his jeans. Jesse whimpers, can’t stop the tears, can’t stop from being pushed toward—Jesse fights the hand cupping the back of his head, mumbling ‘please’ and ‘no’ and ‘stop’.

Todd watches him, waits for him to go quiet, tells him, “Jesse, open your mouth”. And Jesse does. Todd moans, rocking into Jesse’s mouth, still with restraint and gentleness. His head knocks against the metal wall with each shallow thrust, and Jesse wishes Todd would just fuck harder. Be so violent, so cruel that Jesse had no room for anything but hate—wants Todd to yell at him, call him filthy names. Instead, Todd watches Jesse with warm eyes, delicate touches to his face and hair, whispering, “So good, god, Jess. Such a good boy.”

He moans, “Jess, come on.” Jesse hollows his cheeks and tries not to focus on the taste, the wet sounds, tries not to gag. Jesse uses his tongue, and Todd moans louder, pumps a little harder, tells Jesse that he is a good boy, his good boy. Erratic thrusts, and Todd presses his length completely into Jesse’s mouth, hand firm on the back of his neck. Jesse gags, trying to swallow, or puke, tries to pull away and breathe, but Todd’s grip is solid. Todd hits the back of his throat, comes with a groan; Jesse swallows the bitterness, knowing it is expected.

The pressure on his neck is gone, and once his mouth is empty, Jesse gasps, panting and out of breath. Jesse wishes the tears would stop already, that he could quit shaking. Todd tucks himself away, zips his jeans, and lifts Jesse to his feet. Jesse wants to shove him away, but is too weak, too shaken, to resist the arms that hold him.

He cries a little harder, and Todd rocks him, comforting, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Shh. You’re okay, you’re safe here.” Over and over until his words fade like white noise. Jesse is limp dead weight, and his legs refuse to hold him.

Jesse thinks, wake up, cook, sleep, wake up, cook, sleep—


End file.
